


Dancing With A Stranger

by varsity08



Category: Haikyuu!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varsity08/pseuds/varsity08
Summary: “If we get separated?” He asked.“We’ll find each other. We always do.”For the first time in months, Iwa-chan smiled.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Miwa & Kageyama Tobio, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 10





	Dancing With A Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't really that sad  
> enjoy :)

I watched as the ball flew towards the stands, as my teammates stumbled over their own feet to reach it. My feet planted into the ground as I sprang after the ball. It was now outside of the court, flying towards the stands. But still… it was close enough. I jumped, stretching my wrist out to touch the ball. The ball flew back into the court, and I breathed a sigh of relief. No, wait. It was on Karasuno’s side now. I winced as I landed on my bad knee, but never keeping my eyes off the ball, I stumbled back into the court.  
When had it happened? For the second time, the ball was flying out of bounds, and I was left feeling completely helpless. But this time, the ball was out of my reach.   
I barely heard my panicked breath mutter, “Iwa-chan.”  
Except, Iwaizumi was further away from the ball than I was. Time seemed to stop.  
My legs refused to move. Everyone stood rooted, their face a horrified mask of horror as they watched the ball fly out of bounds. A ball that had rebounded off my forearms, too far away to reach. A whistle blew, and I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Iwaizumi grabbed the collar of my shirt and slammed my back against the tiled wall of the locker room.   
“That’s bull, Oikawa,” he hissed. “Have you forgotten how much you love volleyball? I’m not going to let you quit.” I fingered the hem of my jersey, staring at the dusty corner in which Kindaichi had refused to clean when it was his turn with the mop. Blaming it on the small spiderweb nestled in the corner and his arachnophobia, he entrusted his cleaning to Iwa-chan and proceeded to never show up to do his duty again. I smiled at the memory, completely forgetting where I was for a second. “Don’t smirk at me, Crappykawa,” Iwaizumi snarled, slamming my head against the wall. A sharp pain flashed through my skull, and for a second, my vision dimmed. I could barely make out Iwa-chan’s blurred silhouette before he brought the palm of his hands against my cheek. My head jerked to the side, and I stared at the ground in utter disbelief. Iwaizumi let go of my shirt, and I felt myself crumpling to the floor, sliding into a sitting position on my knees.  
“You...slapped me.”  
“Of course I did! Do you not realize how unreasonable you’re being right now?!”   
I brought my hand up to the red mark taking the shape of a handprint on my face.   
“You slapped me.”  
“I did. And I’ll keep slapping you until you pick yourself and get back on the court.”  
“Why did you-”  
“Say something else, dammit!” He began to shake uncontrollably, covering his face with his hands as he cried as if he intended to drown himself in his own tears.   
“Iwa...chan…” From my position on the ground, I reached my trembling hand upwards to grab the rim of his shorts. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”  
Iwaizumi swatted my hand away, which fell uselessly by my side.   
“I never liked volleyball, you know.” His voice was stoic, refusing to let any extra emotion escape. I blinked.   
“Huh?”  
“I can’t remember a year where we haven’t played volleyball. I never liked it. But you... your face lit up whenever you stepped foot into a gym. For your birthday, all you asked for were jerseys of your favorite players or new volleyball shoes. I was jealous, how dedicated you were.”  
The world stopped spinning. Since when… since when? Since when did Iwaizumi, the ace, the vice-captain… my best friend, not like volleyball?  
“I wanted to love something as much as you loved volleyball. I pushed myself harder and harder, trying to find what you loved so much about a sport.”  
“You don’t... like volleyball?”  
Iwa-chan knelt down beside me and gathered my limp body in his arms. “No, I don’t. I never found anything interesting about it.” He paused, ignoring his watery voice. “But I found you. You were fascinating. You pushed yourself beyond limits, just so you could become better at something you loved.”  
“Iwa-chan-” Tears began to roll down my cheeks and I gave a small hiccup. Iwaizumi’s shoulders shook as he struggled to maintain his composure. He squeezed my hand softly.  
“I never regretted playing with you. I got to see your eyes shine every time we won, and the hollow emptiness everytime we lost. Oikawa, where are you? Where’s my best friend? The one who treats volleyball like the most precious thing in his life? Every time I look at your eyes, all I see is the dark emptiness that I know isn’t you. Tooru, come back to me. Come back, and realize what you’re doing is a giant mistake. Don’t you dare… don’t you dare leave me.”  
I hugged him close, afraid that if I let him go, he would suddenly leave me forever. We shook each other with our sobs, dampening the other’s shirts with tears.  
“I’m right here,” I whispered into his shoulder. “I always will be.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I lay sprawled in a dry patch of what was supposed to be my backyard, watching as the crimson sun hid itself behind the mountains. It’s been seven months since I’ve graduated high school, but it might as well have been seven years. My old volleyball lay next to the patio steps, untouched.  
“Hey, Iwa-chan. Not much has happened since yesterday. I bought another pack of microwave ramen from the grocery store, just like we always used to. It’s chicken flavored though, not the type you like. If I remember correctly, you preferred the beef based flavor. I can’t believe how you could tell the difference between both of them, they all ended up tasting like dry cardboard.” I paused and stared at the mountains, their silhouettes now hidden behind clouds. “I listened to our song today. The one that was trending when we were in our freshman year, and which you wouldn’t stop playing in the locker room. I’m pretty sure chorus when something along the lines of ‘I’m dancing with a stranger.’” I hummed the tune to myself.   
I lay on my back, watching as stars began to appear in the now navy blue sky. I could almost feel Iwa-chan lying next to me, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The volleyball net that I had played with as a kid was shredded from years worth of thunderstorms and rain. And yet, it was still the most interesting thing at the moment. I remember setting the ball to him, and Iwa-chan hitting the ball towards the ground as hard as he could. We cheered when it hit, thrusting both arms into the air and stomping our feet like little kids. I remember perfecting our jump floaters with that net, and Iwaizumi threatening to throw me over it unless I let him have a turn with the ball.  
My heart gave a sharp pang as I recalled the moment in the locker room, where, in all the years we’ve been together, we cried together. Where no one was on the stronger side, and both of us felt helpless. I had seen him cry countless times, when he tripped one day while walking home from school, and when we lost our match against Karasuno. He saw me cry at Kitagawa Daiichi, when Tobio outshined me in every way, and at our loss against Shiratorizawa.   
I miss those times, I thought to myself, turning onto my side.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

My hand hovered over the microwave as my brain tried to remember if I had put 3 minutes or 2 minutes on the timer. The package clearly stated “microwave ramen for three to four minutes until hot”, but I had been surfing my phone, causing my hand to slip, worrying me that I was about to eat cold ramen.  
“Nothing newsworthy ever happens in this prefecture, huh?” I said to no one in particular as I watched the plastic cup rotate in small circles in the microwave. I scrolled through a countless number of articles reporting on the increasing mortality rate of the flu and high school volleyball scores when one suddenly caught my eye. 

Karasuno’s “Genius Setter” Kageyama Tobio Quits Volleyball

The microwave beeped, signaling that my food was ready to eat. I ignored it as I collapsed onto the couch, refusing to believe what was displayed on my phone screen. Not knowing what to expect, I clicked on the article, enlarging the tiny font.  
It was the next day. Did he forget my number? I watched the phone ring for a good 30 seconds, before sending me to an automated voicemail. Gritting my teeth, I dialed again. I counted the rings, impatiently fidgeting with my feet.  
“Hello?” The voice on the other end sounded exhausted, unlike the Iwaizumi I knew.  
“Iwa-chan!” My voice was hyper, like I was calling a puppy.   
“Ah.” It was like I was talking to a stone. “It’s you.”  
“Don’t be so vulgar! It’s the first time we’ve talked in a while, isn’t it? It’s been lonely ever since you moved out of the neighborhood.” Pinning the phone under my ear, I hoisted myself onto the kitchen counter, shuffling plates and cups out of the way. “How’s university?”  
“Quite boring.”  
“You should come home and visit me sometime, Iwa-chan. When’s your next holiday?”  
“Towards the end of December.”  
“Awww, that’s a really long way away.” I pouted to myself. On the other end, I could hear Iwaizumi sigh.  
“Why did you call me, Oikawa?”  
“I wanted to say hi.”  
“It’s been seven months.”  
“And? Can someone not say hi to an old friend these days?”  
“Did something happen?”  
I exhaled, rolling my eyes at the ceiling. “Tobio’s sister is in the hospital for an unknown heart disease. He’s put a pause on volleyball.”  
Silence radiated from Iwa-chan. “And?”  
“What if his sister doesn’t get better?! What if he never plays again?!” I barked at my phone, my face flushing. “I don’t want him to make the same mistake as me.”   
Iwa-chan sucked in a breath.  
“I see. Is he at the hospital with his sister?”  
“Miyagi hospital.”  
“I’m guessing you plan on going?”  
“Tomorrow morning. Will you come with me? It’s Saturday, so you’ll have a break from your classes.” I couldn’t help but feel hopeful that I would get to see him again. He paused, thinking it over.   
“Fine,” he sighed, after a good minute. “I’ll be there when it opens. Don’t be late or I’ll punch you.”   
I felt my face light up and I leaped off the counter. “REALLY?! YOU’LL COME WITH ME?!” I screamed into my phone, jumping up and down.  
“Oikawa, my ears!”  
“Oh. Sorry.” I stopped jumping and I clutched my stomach. “Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped all over the place. I feel dizzy.”  
For the first time, Iwa-chan laughed. It was short and sweet, like a bird’s song, but it was still enough to flood me to my feet with joy. His laugh elapsed into a giggle. His laugh hasn’t changed at all, I realized. I joined in his laughter.   
I flung my body across my couch and stared at the ceiling as I listened as Iwa-chan rambled about his university life, and all the new friends he’s made. I added occasional “mhm”’s and “yeah”’s into the conversation. After a while, I began to feel my eyelids begin to droop.   
I yawned into the receiver. “Iwa-chan, I’m tired.”  
“It’s only 3 pm. Did you do anything active today?”  
“No.”  
“Are you sick?”  
“No.”  
There was a long pause. I listened to his shaky breathing as he seemed to shuffle around his apartment, in search of something. After a couple moments, Iwaizumi returned.  
“Oikawa, what’s the date?”  
“I don’t remember. Sometime in July? Can I go to bed now? I’m tired.”  
“Not yet.” Iwa-chan’s voice was stoic, and I heard the faint ruffling of papers from his end of the phone. “Day of the week?”  
“Don’t remember.”  
“Ah. How old are you?”  
“I don't remember.”  
“What’s my name?”  
“I…. don't remember.”  
Iwa-chan choked. Fighting to keep his voice stable, he slowly muttered into the receiver, “Oikawa, stay right there, and whatever you do, do not fall asleep.”  
“Why?” I whined impatiently, stuffing my face into a pillow. “I’m tired.”  
“Don’t.” His voice was urgent and more panic-filled than I’ve ever heard it, even more than when I told him I was going to quit volleyball. “I’m on my way over. My roommate’s using the car, so I’m going to have to bike, but I want you to stay where you are.”  
“Aye aye, captain,” I muttered sleepily, not entirely sure what the fuss was all about. “Can you bring Iwa-chan too? I wanna talk to him.”  
The voice on the other end was forced. “Sure.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Iwaizumi cursed under his breath as he biked through the rain. He checked his watch. He’d left his apartment 20 minutes ago, but he still had another 50 to bike. Oikawa, please please please don’t fall asleep. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I feel funny. This feeling...what is this feeling? Where is Iwa-chan?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

By now it was pouring outside, drenching him from head to foot. Another 40 minutes to go, he told himself. Not too long. He’ll be there. Keep biking, no matter what you do.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I want to go to sleep. A couple winks wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Please don’t fall asleep. I’m almost there. I’m almost home. Stay with me, Oikawa.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

How much longer is he going to be? He told me not to fall asleep, but I don’t think I can stop myself…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Please, not him. Not Oikawa.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Maybe I can go to sleep and wake up before Iwa-chan gets here so he doesn’t know I went to sleep. That doesn’t sound too bad.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Please, don’t take him. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Goodnight, Iwa-chan.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I love him.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Iwaizumi stood in the doorway of Oikawa’s bedroom, unable to move. No. He couldn’t express any more. Anguish and shock filled his body at the sight of Oikawa’s unmoving body, still sprawled on the bed. Didn’t I clearly tell him not to go to sleep? Slowly, Iwa-chan crept forward, never taking his eyes off of the bed. That wasn’t really him. There’s no way Oikawa could be dead. Not after he was alive only an hour ago, on the phone with him. He grabbed the figure’s arm, feeling for a pulse. I should’ve biked to him once I noticed his sleepiness. Panicking, Iwaizumi moved his fingers up to Oikawa's jawline. No pulse. Frantically pressing his head to his chest, Iwa-chan’s body slumped against the bed. He still held Oikawa’s smooth, cold hand.   
He refused to believe it. I begged and begged and begged. He’s not dead, right? He’s just sleeping. Tears flooded his eyes, falling down his cheeks and into his lap. Just then, it hit him, that Oikawa was gone. He wasn’t coming back. He won’t be there to comfort him, to hold him, or to play volleyball with him. No more all-nighters over the phone and watching their favorite teams play. No more blasting the same song, the one that they had claimed as “their song.” A sob racked Iwaizumi’s body and he began to shake, squeezing the cold hand, wishing for there to still be a spark, somewhere, in the body that lay on the bed.  
The neighborhood was silent, and the only thing that could be heard was Iwaizumi’s horror struck sobs, as he clutched the body of his childhood best friend to his chest.   
He whipped out his phone and dialed the first number he could think of. They picked up on the first ring.  
“Hajime? What’s up?”  
“Help,” he managed to choke out. “Help me restart his heart.”  
On the other end of the phone, Yamada Yuko froze. “Hajime, what happened? Oh my gosh, are you crying?”  
“Help me… Oikawa… he…”  
Her face hardened. “I’m on my way.”  
“Oh my God… I-... What?” Yuko couldn’t move, as she stared at Iwaizumi’s distressed form, holding Oikawa’s lifeless body in his arms.  
“Epilepsy. Attacked. I warned.. Symptoms.” Iwaizumi couldn’t form sentences. He didn’t know how. He never knew how, like the knowledge was erased from his brain. Kneeling beside him, Yamada wrapped her arm around his shoulders.  
“Calm down and tell me what happened, from the beginning.”   
Iwaizumi’s breaths were shaky as he hiccuped the tears to a stop. He held Oikawa’s cold hand, unwilling to let go.  
“Since his birth… he’s had epilepsy. Whenever he had an attack, he always ended up in the hospital. I studied the symptoms of an attack, so I should’ve… known sooner, when he started getting really tired for no reason. I should’ve…”  
He didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t. Yamada grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in a tight hug, silent tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at the window in the back of the room.   
“This isn’t your fault,” she whispered.  
“I should’ve…”   
“It’s not your fault.”  
“I sho-”  
“Look. He’s asleep.” Yamada pointed at Oikawa’s closed eyes and peaceful expression. “He’ll wake up soon. We should give him space.” She felt guilty for lying. Yuko grabbed Iwa-chan’s shoulders and attempted to pull him out of the room.  
Under her grip, Iwaizumi began to thrash. “Let go!” he screamed. Yamada pulled harder, causing him to drop Oikawa’s body. “NO! LET ME GO!”  
She had never heard his voice go this high, as he reached for the body sprawled out on the floor.  
“Hajime, you need to calm down!” she squealed, attempting to lug his body out the door. “We’ll figure something out, when you can concentrate.”  
“OIKAWA!” Iwaizumi extended his hand, groping around for everything he could grab. Horrified, he stared at his best friend. “Oikawa?”  
Yamada pulled him out of the room and closed the door to the bedroom, panting. “Tell me what happened, from the top,” she said, sliding down into a sitting position, resting her head in her hands.  
“Yuko?”  
“Mm?”  
“Is he… is Oikawa… actually dead?”   
“Yes.” She choked out the word, followed by a small sniffle. Iwa-chan’s eyes widened.  
“You… but… you promised! You said that he was asleep.”  
“I’m sorry, Hajime.”  
Iwa-chan began to wail. He fell onto his back, screaming and pulling at his hair. The tears began to gush out, more than Yuko thought he was capable of. He screamed until he thought his lungs were going to burst, until he wasn’t able to scream anymore. Then, he cried. He cried more than he had ever cried before, and yet, it still didn’t feel like enough.  
Yamada watched from the corner, crying tears of her own. She watched as Iwaizumi gave up on crying and screaming, and instead resorted to a state of utter shock.  
“Want me to sing?” She was uncomfortable in the silence, and she didn't feel like talking.  
Iwa-chan didn’t respond. Yuko began to sing their song. She was singing the ninth line of “Dancing With A Stranger” when Iwaizumi suddenly interrupted.  
“He’s gone, isn’t he.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
A small pause.  
“I loved him.”  
“I know.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Something wasn’t quite right. Tobio could feel it.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I opened my eyes. “Oh,” I muttered to myself. “I’m supposed to see Tobio today.” I rolled over on my bed and glanced at my alarm clock. 4:06 am. Might as well get an early start. I rolled out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I was out the door and biking by 4:15, a premade waffle in my mouth. I lugged the bike out of the bike port and kicked off the ground.  
“I’m here to see Kageyama Miwa.”  
The receptionist ignored me, typing loudly on her keyboard. A young mother approached the counter from behind me, holding the hand of her daughter. The lady behind the desk smiled.  
“How may I help you?”  
I frowned.  
“Oikawa?” That voice. That voice was familiar. I turned around.  
“Tobio?” He’d grown taller since I last saw him. His hair was longer, and his eyes a deeper shade of blue. He was wearing his Karasuno sports jacket and a pair of knee length shorts, his hands shoved in his pocket. “Hi.”  
“Why are you here?”  
“I came to say hello.”  
Tobio blinked. “Why?”  
“I heard your sister’s having a rough time.”  
He blinked again. “Oh. Oh yeah.”  
“How is she?”  
“None of the doctors know what type of heart disease she has. If worst comes to worst, they’ll have to replace her heart.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
We stood in the lobby awkwardly, both of our eyes exploring the room.  
“How long has she been hospitalized?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t hitting too deep.  
“About a week now.”  
“You’ve been here with her?”  
Tobio nodded. “My grandfather was the one who took care of us, but when he passed in middle school she always watched me. The least I could do for her was miss a couple days of school. I do miss volleyball, though.”  
“I know how you feel. I’m so sorry.”   
We walked down the hospital’s halls in silence. Personally, the walls were too white. It reminded me of heaven, which wasn’t necessarily a good thought.  
“How’s the team?” I asked.  
Tobio smiled. “Hinata’s as uselessly stubborn as ever. Last practice, he wouldn’t let me leave until I gave him 25 tosses. He even tried to make Tsukishima stay to block his spikes, but Daichi shut down the gym before we started.”   
“Your team is close, huh.” Thinking back, Aoba Johsai’s team had no other motives than to ‘defeat Shiratorizawa’ and ‘go to the Nationals’.  
“I miss them.”  
We ended up outside, in the hospital parking. Tobio glanced at the vending machine on the other side of the lot.   
“Do you want milk?” I asked, pulling two 100 yen coins out of my pocket. “I’ve always wanted to try it, see why you like it so much.”  
“Thanks.”  
I jabbed my straw into the milk box and took a sip.   
“This isn’t half- ew! You like this stuff?” I asked, spitting out the milk. Tobio doubled over and wheezed. “This is disgusting!”  
“You just don’t appreciate it.” He said ‘appreciate’ with a flourish, taking a drink from his own box.   
“Not you worshipping milk like it has it’s own religion.” I sighed. “Here, finish mine. Swap out the straws, though. I don’t need you getting sick.”  
I handed the carton over to him, who quickly finished the first and started on the second. I clutched the straps to my backpack. I pointed towards a tree with a shady patch of grass under it.   
“Let’s go sit there.”  
Unzipping my backpack, I pulled the volleyball out and handed it to Tobio. He took it wordlessly, staring at it as if he was expecting it to do something  
“Did I ever tell you that on our first day of practice, Hinata and I managed to knock the vice principal’s wig off?”  
“No way. You’re joking.”  
Tobio smirked, and honestly, it was quite scary to see him smile. “I’m not. Daichi wouldn’t let us into practice until we learned to cooperate.”  
I laughed.  
“You’ve paused school?”  
“I’ve been exempt from lessons until my sister gets better. Every week Hinata runs by and delivers my homework, though.”  
“I see.”  
Eventually, Tobio fell asleep under the tree, the breeze ruffling his hair. His jacket, which he had discarded earlier, lay next to him in a crumpled heap. I draped it across his body.   
Walking across the parking lot, I inserted two 100 yen coins into the vending machine and returned to the tree with two milk boxes. I didn't have the nerve to wake Tobio up, so I decided to leave a note.  
I left you some milk, just don’t drink too much and get sick. I’ll be back tomorrow.  
Grabbing my bike from the bike rack, I glanced behind me at his sleeping form, under the branches of the tree. Just then, I realized just how long ago it was when he last had a normal conversation.  
I kicked off the pavement and biked home.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

She was beginning to lose patience. Had he already gone home? Did something happen, making him not want to see her? She sat in her bed, fiddling with the sheets and staring intently at the doorway. A pair of footsteps softly walked through the hallway, pausing outside her door. The door creaked open, and a tall figure slipped in.  
“Hey, sis.”  
Miwa smiled at the sight of her brother. “Took you long enough. I’ve been awake for almost three hours.”  
“Sorry, I fell asleep.” Tobio smiled weakly. His eyes were distant, and there was clearly something he wasn’t telling her. “Oikawa came to visit.”  
“Oikawa, from Aoba Johsai?”  
“That’s him.”  
“No way. Get me his autograph.”  
He rolled his eyes. “Miwa, he isn't famous. The most he has is a couple of fangirls. He won’t treat you any differently.”  
“Please?” Miwa begged with her eyes, widening them as a baby would. Tobio sighed, smiling slightly.   
“I’ll try.”  
This is what Tobio missed most. The useless conversations that always seemed to satisfy his sister, and the small jokes that always made her laugh. Frankly, her personality was the complete opposite of his. She was energetic, like a newborn puppy, and willing to laugh and smile at any dispense. Tobio struggled to accept people into his life, and when he smiles, people normally don’t know if he’s threatening them or trying to be genuinely nice. He wished he could be more like his sister, more excited and warm.   
“How does my hair look today?” she asked, showing off her small ponytail. “I want to keep my hair in check, even when I’m hospitalized.”  
“It looks great.” Tobio pulled up a chair next to Miwa’s bed and grabbed a lock of her hair. It was the same color as his, a raven black that only shone in the moonlight. His eyes were a darker shade of blue than hers, but with both the eye and hair color, together, they resembled a pair of wolves. “You should consider growing it out. It would suit you.”  
She smirked. “I’ll consider it.”   
They chatted long past midnight. Eventually, Miwa felt her eyelids getting heavy and drifted off to sleep, leaving Tobio alone in the room. He slouched against the window frame, staring past the hospital parking lot and into the mountains in the distant  
Something was wrong with Oikawa, he realized. He was more subdued and less energetic, more hesitant to start conversations. Had something happened, in the last year, that had made him so shy? 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I keep having the same dream. In it, I’m in a black room. I can’t see anything, but after a moment, music starts to play. It’s the song from high school, the one Iwa-chan loved. And suddenly, he’s in my arms. We smile at each other, not speaking. I take his hands and begin to waltz to the song. The words “Dancing With A Stranger” repeat through my head. We dance for hours, our eyes never leaving each other’s faces. The chorus of Dancing With A Stranger starts. We continue dancing. The white suits we wear eventually fade to black, blending in with the darkness.  
Eventually, the music stops. Iwa-chan disappears, and I am left alone.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Iwaizumi clutched the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles turning white. Not a second passed where he didn’t glance at the passenger seat, to make sure the small envelope was still there. Yuko sat in the backseat, scrolling anxiously through her phone for the directions to Miyagi hospital.  
“The light’s green,” she said.   
Iwa-chan gently stepped on the gas. He hadn’t spoken a single word since Oikawa’s death, always shuffling around, hands in pockets, refusing to look anyone in the eye.   
“Can’t you go a little faster? The hospital is opening soon.” Yamada asked, impatiently whining. Iwaizumi glared at her through the reviewer mirror, and floored the gas pedal, speeding through the left lane. She screamed, clinging on to the seats. “HAJIME! Not that fast! You’re going to get-”  
She felt her body lurch forward, slamming into the passenger seat. Her eyes widened as she slid to the floor of the car. All she saw was red. Red, on the window. Red, on the steering wheel and seats. Red, in the mirrors. And red, on Iwaizumi’s body.  
“The… letter…” he croaked, reaching a trembling hand towards the passenger seat. After a couple of seconds, it fell back to his side, and Iwa-chan's head slumped against the back of the driver’s seat.   
Yuko froze. “Ha..jime?” Not again, she repeated to herself. This can’t be happening again. She climbed into the front and grabbed Iwaizumi’s face in her hand and looked him straight in the eyes. His mouth was parted open in a small smile, and his eyes stared at her emptily. No. Please, not again. “Hajime?” No response came from Iwa-chan’s lifeless body. “HAJIME?” That’s when it hit her, that Iwaizumi was dead. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

“You look different on TV,” Miwa said bluntly.   
I blinked.   
“You’re hotter when you sweat,” she decided. Tobio smirked in the corner of the hospital room, his arms crossed over his chest. My mouth twitched upwards, forming into a smile.   
“I’ll keep it in mind to look hotter on a daily basis.”   
Miwa let out a shrill laugh, filling the room with an angelic sound. Her laugh was like a bird’s, singing early in the morning and waking everyone up to a feeling of nostalgia. Judging by the look on Tobio’s face, her laugh was something he heard every day, but still didn’t hear enough.   
“You’re still cute, though. Better than Tobio. He really got the bad genes, huh,” she added, sending a sly glance in his direction.   
“Oh, I didn’t realize this was International Compare Everyone’s Looks Day,” he said, but the expression he wore told everyone that he was just teasing.  
“You should grow your hair.” I ran my hands through his hair, messing it up and trying to make it resembled mine. He swatted my hand away, pressing his hands to his head and trying to flatten the mound.   
“If I grow out my hair I’ll have to spike it like Nishinoya or make a man-bun like Asahi.  
“Man-buns are cool. They make you seem five years older than you actually are,” Miwa pointed out. “Or maybe you should get an undercut, like that guy from the anime you used to watch a lot in middle school. I think his name was… Levi Ackerman? From Shingeki No Kyojin?”  
Tobio nodded. “I remember him. Wasn’t he like 34 or something? I don’t wanna look older than I am.”  
“No way. You guys used to watch Shingeki No Kyojin?” I used to spend hours invested in that show, binging the episodes every afternoon when I got home from school with Iwa-chan.  
“Duh. Everyone did at one point.”  
“Maybe I should dye my hair gray and spike it, like Bokuto.”  
“No, don’t do that. You’d look even uglier than you are right now.”  
“Miwa!”  
The Kageyamas argued back and forth. After a while, I put my hand on Tobio’s shoulder and whispered into his ear. He nodded, and I left the room to explore the hospital.  
I scanned the room numbers, looking for the correct one. 405, 407, 409… 510, 512, 515… 603, 605… there it was. Room 606.   
The door was already cracked open, and I could see doctors huddled over a bed in the corner. A girl was crying, clutching only a small envelope to her chest. I recognized her at once. Yamada Yuko, Iwa-chan’s roommate. I slipped into the room, unnoticed. I snuck around the doctors to peek at the body. My mouth fell open at the sight of Iwa-chan’s bloody body. His limbs were mangled, his face caked with dry blood. His skin was paler than it should’ve been, his eyes glossier than normal.  
“Iwa-chan?” The doctors were silent, analyzing data off of a clipboard. In the corner, Yamada sobbed into her hands, the envelope tucked into her coat pocket. No response came from the corpse.   
A single tear fell from my eyelid, onto Iwaizumi’s cheek.  
The envelope slid from Yamada’s pocket, and under the bed. Bending down, I grabbed it and glanced at the front. Immediately, I recognized it and slipped it into my pocket.   
I turned away from the scene and made my way towards the door. Yamada gave a small shriek, dropping to her hands and knees, her eyes scanning the floor for the letter.   
“The envelope! Someone help me find the envelope!”   
I gripped the door around, wheeling around for one last final look.   
“I’ll see you soon, Iwa-chan,” I said to myself.   
I smiled.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I leaned against the gate, starting to lose my patience. I’ve only waited for two minutes, but it felt like a lifetime, watching the path for any stragglers who happened to get lost. It wasn’t like him to be late, not even by a minute.   
“Jeez, you haven’t gotten lost, have you?” I muttered to myself, closing my eyes and massaging my brows with my fingers.  
“No, I believe I’m on time.”   
My eyes shot open, my arm dropping to my side as I took in his figure, dressed purely in white. The corner of my mouth twitched upwards as he frowned at his outfit.   
“White isn’t really your color, is it?”  
“Shut up, Mr. ‘I Look Good In Anything’.”   
Smiling, I took a seat on the grass, resting my back against the post of the gate. I gestured around me, at the crisp air and bright blue skies, and the white gate and winding path that led to nowhere.  
“Thoughts?”  
“Nicer than expected.” He joined me, throwing a hand over his knee as he took in the scenery. “It looks like a picture book.”  
“I heard it’s different for everyone.”  
“What was it like for you?”  
“Empty, without you here.”  
“Don’t be so sappy.”  
“It’s the truth! Up until today, it was like I was floating around in a black void. I couldn’t see anything or hear anything. I couldn’t feel anything. I just waited and waited for you to show up. And I gotta say, it took you long enough.”  
He slapped me across the back of my head. “Not everyone goes in their sleep.” He redirected his attention to the sky. “What’s beyond the fence?”  
“That’s for us to find out.” I stumbled to my feet, brushing the spare grass strands off of my white suits and offered a hand to him. “Shall we?”  
Taking it, he rose to his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I guess we have no other choice.” Hand in hand, we approached the gate. A slight breeze ruffled our hair and jackets, giving us one last look at the world we were about to leave.  
“If we get separated?” He asked.  
“We’ll find each other. We always do.”  
For the first time in months, Iwa-chan smiled. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Tobio’s sleeping body slumped across the small desk. His eyes were closed, and the expression on his face was peaceful. It was a night like the rest, where he had fallen asleep in the cramped room, and I had to leave a note explaining I would be back tomorrow. I knelt down next to him.  
“Hey, Tobio. I wish I could tell you how peaceful you look when you sleep. Very unlike someone who’s worried to death about their sister.” I smiled to myself, and I cleared my throat at the slightest hint of a shaky voice. “You don’t have to worry anymore.” My hands shook as I shrugged off my jacket and cast it around Tobio’s shoulders, making sure the letter was still in the right pocket. I hesitated for a moment, then lifted his lifeless body out of his chair. The hospital let no light in, not from the windows or ceiling light. It reminded me of an abyss, with shadows casting the floor, and nowhere to go but darkness. I stood in the middle of the room, supporting Tobio upright, holding his head against my chest. Suddenly recalling the fantasy I had on my patio, so many months ago, I grabbed Tobio’s hands and began to waltz in a slow circle. Singing the lyrics of “Dancing with a Stranger” in my head, I recreated my dream. For five minutes, I waltzed with Kageyama’s unconscious body, my eyes closed, in a pitch-black room. I breathed in the scent of his hair, the scent of his jacket, clinging to every last memory of him I had left. I stopped moving, supporting his body against mine.  
“I have a couple of requests,” I began. I pushed away his bangs and planted a light kiss on his forehead, not in a romantic way, more of how a father would kiss his son. “Make sure you read my letter.” I cradled him and began walking backward until my back hit a wall. I slid into a sitting position, clutching Tobio closer. “Take care of your sister and my heart.” His body leaned against mine, his hair brushing against my chin. Tears made their way down my cheeks. “Continue playing volleyball, if it makes you happy.” Tobio’s head slid into my lap. “Make new friends.” I could feel myself beginning to fade. I gripped his body tightly, not wanting to leave. Not yet. I breathed in the scent of his hair, once more. My time was limited. My jacket slid off his shoulders, falling to a heap next to our feet. I had seconds, at most, and I smiled. Thank you, Tobio, I thought. I turned my face towards the heavens, not bothering to hide my tears. Iwa-chan, I’m coming. Thanks for waiting. With a shaking sob, I uttered three words.   
“Wake up, Tobio.”

................................................................................................

Tobio,

If we were back in middle school, I would’ve hated you.  
I hated you for being more talented than me, even more dedicated than me.  
I was jealous, because people recognized you.  
They gave you a nickname.  
“The King of the Court”

What made me angrier was that you didn’t like the name.  
I would’ve given anything, to be hated enough by enemies to get called names.  
It just meant that I was stronger. 

But now, I realize just how much you hated that nickname.  
You hated it because it made you realize you prioritized yourself over others.   
Your teammates gave you the nickname because they thought you were self-centered and greedy.

But I think you’ve changed, Tobio.  
Ever since your sister was hospitalized, you put her over your own goals.  
You paused volleyball, your one and only passion.  
You were willing to let me, who had bullied you for as long as I could remember, into your life.

Tobio, you are not the type of king they say you are.  
You are the king that cares for his subjects.  
You are the king who carries the court on his back, knowing everyone’s playing preferences and weaknesses.  
You are the king who puts his followers before himself.   
That is you, Kageyama Tobio.  
You are the King of the Court.

Looking back, I wish I could’ve been more like you.  
I was so focused on my own intentions, I managed to mistreat one of the only people who cared for me.  
I separated with him, after being friends with him for my entire life.  
I never took his feelings into account.   
I never realized how much he had done for me, just by staying at my side. 

I was the selfish king.  
I envied you, and put myself over others who valued me. 

I wish I could’ve seen him one more time.  
I wish we could’ve listened to Dancing With A Stranger, together, one more time.  
I wish we could’ve played one more match of volleyball.  
Though the thing is,  
We all wish.

My heart is with you and your sister.  
Grow up to be the best you can be.  
Do what makes you passionate.  
Go to the Nationals, not as a team, but as friends. 

Your life awaits you.

The lights shine on you, King of the Court.

**Author's Note:**

> *the epileptic attack scene was not exactly accurate, as I did research over the internet, and wasn't able to get much info
> 
> thank you so much for reading!


End file.
